Whipporwill
by sburke94
Summary: Follows "The Road Home." Christy is certain of her feelings, but the emotions of those around her and events that follow leave her uncertain of her future.
1. Chapter 1

"There's nothing more to do, Alice." Neil snapped the clasp of his medical bag. "I've given her morphine. She should be comfortable until…" His voice trailed off and he rubbed his palm across his weary eyes. "I'm sorry."

Alice Henderson shifted her gaze from the bed where her daughter lay towards her son-in-law. "Thee has nothing to be sorry for, Neil. I am grateful she is able to rest without pain."

In the hall, Christy wrapped her arms tightly around herself as she listened to their hushed conversation. It had been two weeks since Neil had brought Margaret to the mission house. Two weeks ago, the doctor's wife had been frail. Within a week, her illness left her bedridden. Now, it sounded as if Margaret MacNeill was unlikely to wake again. Christy's heart ached for Alice and for Neil. Somehow, she doubted that losing Margaret a second time was any easier than losing her the first.

"If you don't mind, Alice, I think I'll sleep here tonight."

"Of course. Thee can take the bunkhouse. With David gone back to Boston, there's no reason you can't get a good night's sleep in a real bed. Stop by the kitchen before thee turn in. I'm sure Miss Huddleston saved thee a plate from supper."

At the mention of her name and the sound of Neil's heavy footsteps, Christy started away from the door. Her cheeks burned. She was no worse than Ruby Mae, eavesdropping on their conversation as she had been. She hesitated on the stair landing, debating rather to retreat to her bedroom to avoid Neil or head to the kitchen to reheat leftovers for his dinner. The click of the door opening sent her flying across the hall and into her own bedroom. As her door latched behind her, Christy slumped against the wall. Her heart was pounding and her palms were sweaty. She wiped them against her skirt, trying to calm the anxiety welling up within her. She had not spoken to Neil alone in over a month, not since the afternoon of David's proposal. Much had transpired since then, including David's departure and Margaret's sudden decline in health. Christy wasn't sure whether her sudden anxiety regarding Neil was because of her newly discovered feelings or because of her inability to share them with him.

Breathing slowed, Christy listened to the sound of Neil's footsteps retreating down the hall. Thump. Thump. Thump. There was a pause and Christy was certain he was standing right outside of her room. Part of her ached to open the door and offer her friendship to the tired doctor. The other part knew with certainty that opening the door to her bedroom would open the heartache she had been battling for weeks. Thump. Thump. Thump. He was leaving. Christy squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stop the tears she knew were coming.

The gray light of rain clouds greeted Christy the next morning. Judging by the hum-drum sound from above, it was pouring. Christy sighed. Bleak weather to match her bleak mood. She dressed quickly and ran a brush through her long hair. Normally, she spent her Saturday mornings lounging in bed with her sketchpad, but with Margaret so sick and Alice spending her time nursing and praying, a lazy morning felt selfish. Christy felt selfish enough as it was, wallowing in her self-pity regarding her feelings for Neil.

Downstairs, Christy found the kitchen empty. A pot of coffee was bubbling on the stove but there was no sign that anyone had started breakfast. Her stomach growling, she set to work boiling water for oatmeal and frying bacon. If Ruby Mae wasn't up yet, she would be soon — and the teenage girl was _always_ hungry. Not five minutes later, Christy heard the kitchen door swing open behind her. "Good morning, Ruby Mae. Breakfast is almost ready. Can you go and fetch Ms. Alice and Dr. MacNeill?"

When there was no reply, Christy turned her head away from the stove and towards the doorway. Instead of an energetic redheaded girl, she found Neil staring at her. "Oh." She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "Good morning, doctor." She attempted a smile, but was certain it looked more like a grimace.

Neil took a step into the kitchen before speaking. "Your hair."

Christy furrowed her brow. "My hair?" She lifted a hand and ran it through the brown waves feeling for any large, obvious tangles. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing," Neil said. "I've just never seen it down like that before." He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, a tell-tale sign of his discomfort. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you self-conscious."

Christy tried to smile again, but it fell short. The awkward tension was palpable and she was at a loss as to how to respond. "Breakfast will be ready in just a few minutes. There's hot coffee if you'd like."

"Aye. I put it on the stove before I went out to feed Charlie." He shifted restlessly from one foot to another for a few seconds. Then, he grabbed a mug from the cabinet. Christy turned back to the stove, her cheeks burning and stomach in knots. She hated the discomfort of the entire situation. Loving a married man hurt, but losing her best friend because of it felt one hundred times worse.

"I made oatmeal and bacon. Not fancy, but it should do the trick." She scooped oatmeal into a bowl and set it on the table behind her. "Can I get you anything else? Milk? Sugar?" Her nerves caused the words to flow out in a rush. She felt breathless as the last syllable left her lips and she brought a hand to her chest in an attempt to still her racing heart.

"Christy." Neil laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Look at me."

Christy wiped her hands against her apron and turned slowly. Neil was standing so close — they were nearly toe to toe. Unable to meet his gaze, for fear she would burst into tears, Christy kept her eyes trained on the second button of his gray flannel shirt. She felt his fingertips, calloused from years of work, tip her chin up gently. "Look at me."

Christy met his gaze and blinked furiously to fight back tears. She swallowed thickly and rested a hand against his chest. She'd meant to push him away, to put some space between them. She didn't follow through. Slowly, his other hand came to cover hers and he squeezed lightly. "Talk to me."

She shook her head. "I can't."

"You can," Neil whispered. "Please. You've been so distant. Tell me what I've done." His eyes swept from her forehead to her chin and back up again before meeting her gaze. "Please."

Christy stared at him for a moment and spread her fingers across his chest. She could feel his heartbeat with her fingertips. "I can't." She jerked away from him and moved to stand by the far side of the table.

"You can't or you won't?" The harsh snap in his voice matched the sudden burn in his eyes. "If I've done something to offend you, I'd like to apologize for it. I didn't mean to hurt you!" Neil slammed his hands down on the table. "Talk to me!"

Christy started at the noise and somehow found his sudden anger a catalyst for hers. "There is nothing for us to talk about, Doctor! You have done nothing and I don't need an apology. I would appreciate it if we could keep things professional from now on."

They stared at each other, both breathing heavily. Eventually, Neil's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Professional? Is that all we are to each other? I thought you were my friend." He looked at her hard, as if trying to decide the truth of her words.

"Please, Neil."

"Fine. Have it your way." Neil's voice was cold and Christy wondered if perhaps she'd inflicted a mortal wound upon their relationship — perhaps it was better that way. He glanced at her one more time, his face a pained mix of sadness and anger, before stepping out of the kitchen. When the door swung shut behind him with a resounding thud, Christy sank into the nearest chair and wept.


	2. Chapter 2

"Easy, Miss Christy. The way you're kneadin' that dough, our biscuits will be hard as rocks." Fairlight Spencer set down the apple she was peeling and leaned across the table to still her friend's hands. "What's eatin' at ya?"

Christy sighed and flipped the dough again, though much more gently. "I'm sorry, Fairlight. I don't know where my mind is at this afternoon."

"I do. Your head is with them folks at the mission and your heart is with Neil MacNeil." The blonde woman smirked and resumed her apple peeling.

"Fairlight!" Christy slapped the dough one more time and sat down on the bench.

"No use in fussin' at me, Miss Christy. Ya know I'm right. I knew it from the moment ya showed up here earlier this afternoon. You and Doc had words this morning, didn't ya?"

"Well…yes. But Fairlight, I was trying to do the right thing."

"The right thing is never easy. What'd you say to him?"

"I told him that we needed to keep things professional — you know, respectable. I'm the mission teacher and he's the Cove's doctor and that's just the way things have to be."

Fairlight snorted. She sliced an apple and handed a piece across the table to Christy. "What'd Neil say?"

Christy took the apple and bit off a piece. It tasted sour. "Not a lot. He looked so hurt though, like a wounded animal."

"Well, don't you feel the hurtin' too? Between you and Margaret, that man's gotta heap of hurtin' on him right now."

Christy the piece of apple she'd been chewing. "That's my point, Fairlight! I can't add to that hurt."

Fairlight sighed. "Well, if that's…" She paused and looked towards the open front door. "Ya hear that?"

"Hear what?" Christy looked towards the door.

"That whipporwill. Strange time of day for him to be calling like that." Fairlight stood and began cutting biscuits out of the dough. "Death is coming."

Christy's eyes grew wide and she turned to look at Fairlight. "What?"

"You'd best get back to the mission, Miss Christy. They'll be needin' ya."

"Needin' me for what, Fairlight?" Her friend had a faraway look on her face.

"Go on. Won't be long now."

Fairlight's calm tone and unfocused gaze unsettled Christy. Her friend's premonitions were almost always right. "Is it Margaret?"

Fairlight smiled sadly. "Go on. He's waiting."

Christy's heart started to race and she shrugged on her coat. She was out the door before Fairlight had the biscuits on to bake.

By the time the mission came into view, the last rays of sunlight were slipping beyond the western mountains. Dusk had fallen, casting a graying light over the mission yard. Save the chirping of the crickets, it was silent.

Christy saw Neil before he saw her. He was standing on the porch, shoulders slumped and forehead resting against a post. His eyes were closed and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides. He looked so broken and so alone. It was all she could do to keep from wrapping him in an embrace.

The porch step creaked under her weight. Neil's opened his eyes and turned his head towards her. "It's over. She's gone." His words were hushed and the words sounded like they were caught in his throat.

"Neil." Christy stepped towards him, her hands reaching out to wrap around his right arm.

He shook his head. "Alice will be needing you."

Christy nodded. "If you need anything—"

"I don't. She's still upstairs with…" His voice trailed off and he looked out towards the church, away from Christy.

Christy left him then. As she shut the mission door behind her, she willed herself to focus on Alice and faith and all of the things that would need to be done to prepare Margaret's body and the mission for a funeral.

Upstairs, Christy found Alice sitting stoically in a chair at Margaret's bedside. Her eyes were red from crying and she clutched her bible in one hand and a sodden handkerchief in the other. "Oh, Ms. Alice. I'm so sorry." Christy dropped to her knees at her mentor's side. "I'm so very sorry."

Alice sniffled, ran a hand across her damp face, then drew in a deep breath. "Thank thee, Christy. I take comfort in knowing she is no longer suffering. Has thee seen Neil?"

Christy nodded. "He's on the porch."

"Thee should go to him. We have both mourned Margaret before. I think this time he blames himself more than he did the first. He needs thee more than he knows."

Christy forced a sad smile and nodded. She was caught between a rock and a hard place and her heart was crammed in the midst of it all. "I'll check on him. I promise. First, what can I do to help you?"

"Would thee tie up Margaret's hair in one of thy's red ribbons? It's vanity, I know — but Margaret loved red ribbons when she was a small girl."

"Of course."

Alice leaned over and cupped Christy's cheek in her hand. "Thee is such a blessing, Miss Huddleston— even in a time of such darkness. I thank thee."

Margaret was buried the next afternoon. The people of the Cove had little grief for her passing. Christy, Ruby Mae, Hattie, Fairlight, Jeb, Opal, and Tom were the only mourners present to stand alongside Alice and Neil. The service was simple, short, and lacking in drama. Christy has a terrible thought, fleeting though it was, that Margaret would have been disappointed.

Long after Jeb and Tom had filled in the grave, Neil remained in the cemetery. Eventually, his legs grew weary of standing and he sank to his knees in the soft red clay. Christy found him like that hours after most of funeral party had returned home. The late afternoon sun was beginning to sink beyond the closest mountain. The evening chill was setting in and the birds were settling into trees to roost for the night.

"Doctor MacNeil." Christy sank down beside him in the dirt. "Neil." She lied a gentle hand upon his back. "It's getting dark. Won't you come in for supper? Fairlight and I made certain there was no squirrel in Ruby Mae's stew tonight. "

Despite his somber mood, her attempt at humor did not go unnoticed. He looked at her and forced a smile. "But squirrel's my favorite."

Christy wrinkled her nose and Neil let out a quiet laugh. He reached forward to tuck a loose wisp of hair behind her ear, but caught himself at the last moment. "I'm not staying for supper. I'm going back to my cabin. It's been too long since I've slept in my own bed."

"Oh." Christy realized with a pang that it had been more than week since Neil had been to his cabin. He'd been sleeping at the mission every night, leaving only to check on other patients. In spite of their unraveling friendship, Christy realized she'd grown used to seeing him first thing every morning and last thing every night. She would miss that. "I understand. I can go pack up some food for you to take with you." She jumped up and wiped the clay from her skirt.

"Thank you for the offer, but no. I can't go back into the mission. It's too…painful right now." He looked at her sadly and heaved himself up from the ground. "Goodbye, Miss Huddleston."

Stuck somewhere between understanding his reticence to return to the mission and his sudden desire to leave immediately, Christy could only nod. "Goodnight, Doctor."

She watched his retreating figure until he was beyond the first line of trees.


	3. Chapter 3

When Monday morning came, Christy felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Monday meant the start of a new week. Monday meant school with the children. Monday meant an evening reading lesson with Fairlight. Most importantly, Monday meant a day full of tasks to distract her from her own emotional turmoil and the somber mood of the mission house.

Creed Allen was waiting for her on the schoolhouse steps. "Mornin' teacher!"

"Good morning, Creed! What brings you here so early? There's another half hour before I ring the bell."

"Wal, Teacher…we need ta talk." The young boy shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. Christy almost laughed at the serious set of his brow.

"Of course, Creed. Let's head inside so I can get a fire going."

He trailed her into the school house and planted himself right beside the stove. "Reckon it mus' be hard for you ta get the wood with Preacher gone and all."

Christy frowned and turned to face him. "Creed, what did you want to talk about?"

"Wal…" The boy suddenly seemed bashful. He rocked back and forth on his heels. "Dang!"

"Language, Creed."

"Sorry, Miz Christy. Better just come right out and say it. It's Preacher, Teacher!"

"Reverend Grantland? What about him?"

"He's gone and me and the other kids been talking and we think it's your fault. Don't tell nobody I told you, but some of the boys are mighty mad 'bout it. I ain't mad, Teacher. I jus' want ta know if he's coming back. I miss him."

Christy knelt down and took Creed's hands. "I miss him too. I hope he's coming back." Creed looked on the verge of tears. "I reckon the other boys are mad because I'm not good at baseball like Reverend Grantland?"

"Yes'um. It's on account of you being a girl and all." He smiled a little and Christy pulled him into a hug.

Later, as more of her pupils began arriving, Christy sent Creed out to play. She understood his perspective, but was bothered by the boys' awareness that she was the root cause of David's sudden departure. If her youngest students were so in-tune with the ongoings of her personal life, then the rest of the Cove had certainly discerned the reason for the young preacher's absence.

When David had proposed in the schoolyard a month earlier, he'd done so in front of all of the children — and in front of Neil. The public nature of what should have been an intimate moment between two people had unnerved Christy. She was certain David was not the man she was meant to marry, but she felt rejecting him in front of the children was highly insensitive. Instead, she snapped the ring box shut, tucked it into her pocket, and asked David to find her after school let out. Two hours later, he found her on the mission porch. She handed the ring box back.

"I can't marry you, David. I'm sorry."

"You're confused. MacNeill is confusing you. Don't make that mistake, Christy." David took a step towards her. "He can't give you anything."

"I'm not confused, David. I don't expect anything from Doctor MacNeill — but I owe it to myself and to you to be honest about my feelings. I do love you — you're one of my best friends, but I can't marry you."

"I won't ask you again, Christy." David set his jaw and gripped the porch railing tightly.

Christy felt her initial guilt at rejecting David morph into anger at his harsh tone. "I don't want you to ask me again." She sighed and her voice softened. "I just want us to remain friends."

David snorted and shoved the ring box into his pocket. "Of course you do. You're so selfish sometimes. Everyone is just supposed to give in to what you want regardless of their own feelings." He gave her one last angry look, then stormed off towards his bunkhouse.

The next morning, he'd packed his bags and boarded a train in El Pano. He'd left a note for Alice stating that he was homesick and was unsure of his return date. Although Christy was certain his leaving had everything to do with her rejection and nothing to do with homesickness, she did not share her thoughts with anyone but Fairlight. Cutter Gap's residents were just beginning to trust her again — she didn't need her personal life ruining that trust.

Creed's declaration left her wondering if David did actually plan on returning to the Cove. She sighed and wiped chalk dust from her hands. No use in wondering about things that were beyond her control.

It was barely sun-up when Fairlight knocked on Neil's door Monday morning. She'd heard from Christy the night before that Neil had refused supper from the mission and knowing the Doc, he was unlikely to have much of anything to eat at his cabin. She'd brought fresh cornbread, a jar of honey, and a plan to talk some sense into him.

"Neil MacNeill, you open this door. I know ya heard me bangin'." Fairlight set the basket down on his porch and knocked again. "I know you're home."

From inside came a loud grunt and the sound of a chair scraping backwards across the floor. "I'm comin', woman." Neil opened the door and glared at Fairlight. "Do you know what time it is?"

Fairlight smiled. "Well," she peeked around his shoulder and into the cabin, "judging by the cup of coffee on the table, ya weren't sleepin'. I brought ya some breakfast."

Neil's face softened and he stepped aside to allow Fairlight into the cabin. "Can't sleep. I tried. Thought maybe being in my own bed would make it easier."

Fairlight nodded and set her basket on his kitchen table. "Hurtin' does that. I remember when Least'un broke his arm, ya remember?" Neil nodded. "I didn't sleep for almost a week worryin' about him. Your hurtin' is much more powerful than that." She cut a think slice of cornbread and drizzled honey on eat. "Eat. No sense in your belly achin' like your heart is."

Neil looked at her skeptically. "I'm fine, Fairlight. Margaret was sick when she came back. I did everything I could. I'm at peace with it. Losing Margaret feels like…" He trailed off and took a sip of coffee.

"It feels like freedom." Neil nodded at Fairlight's comment and she took a seat beside him.

"Aye."

"Neil, I know Margaret was a hard woman to live with. She had her flaws, but you did love her at some point. I remember when ya brought her back to the Cove for the first time. She was dressed all fancy like in satin and lace and you were lookin' at her like she could hang the stars."

Neil held up a hand. "That was a long time ago. I stopped loving her a long time ago. The grief — it's just different this time. It hurts but it's like…like things finally feel normal again."

Fairlight nodded and they sat in silence for a few moments. Neil stood and tossed another log on the fire.

"I ain't here about Margaret though, Neil."

The doctor sighed and glanced at her over his shoulder. "Aye. I figured as much." He sat back down at the table. "Christy's been to see you?"

Fairlight smiled. "That girl is in knots over ya, Neil MacNeill. 'Course she's just now realizing it. She told me that y'all was gonna keep things respectable like. Plumb crazy if ya ask me."

Neil snorted picked up his mug. He stared at the dark contents for a moment, replaying Saturday's conversation with Christy in his head. "She's been so distant. Doesn't make sense. With Grantland gone, I thought…"

"Ya thought she'd come runnin' ta tell ya she was in love with ya." Fairlight grinned. "But Neil, she's young and she's stubborn — about as stubborn as you I reckon. Can't imagine she even knows it's love yet. She just knows she's feeling some powerful type of way about you and it's scarin' her. With everything that's happened the past month, I ain't surprised she's pushin' ya away."

Neil mulled over Fairlight's words. He hadn't really thought of it that way. He tried to put himself in Christy's shoes. She was so strong-willed and compassionate that sometimes he forgot how young she really was.

"You're sure she feels that way?" Neil looked uncertain and Fairlight reached across the table to squeeze his hand.

"I'm as certain about the two of you as I am 'bout me and Jeb. Somethings is just meant ta be." She rose from the table and picked up her basket. "I best be gettin' back home. Just think on what I told ya. If ya want a future with Christy, you'll be havin' to tell her first. She's so scared of her feelings. Used up all her courage tellin' ya to keep your distance. Just let her know she's not alone in feelin' the way she is."


	4. Chapter 4

Two weeks passed before Christy saw Neil again. She'd heard him — once — when he'd brought medical supplies to the mission. She'd heard him ask for her and heard Ruby Mae tell him, rather unconvincingly, that she was out. Christy wasn't one for lying, but somehow the alternative, actually seeing Neil, seemed worse.

It was a cool October day when complete avoidance no longer seemed likely. The Cove was gathering for Granny Barclay's eightieth birthday. Alice had left for a retreat two days prior, leaving Ruby Mae and Christy to represent the mission at the party. Neil was certain to attend, but a small, terrible part of Christy wished there to be some minor medical emergency to keep him away.

"Ya sure look awful pretty, Miss Christy." Ruby Mae fingered the blue velvet ribbon Christy wore in her hair. "Reckon you got the purtiest hair this side of El Pano."

Christy smiled handed Ruby Mae an emerald green ribbon off of her desk. With Alice gone, Ruby Mae and Christy had spent the Saturday indulging in girlish luxuries — first with rose-scented baths and then with rag curls for the evening's festivities. "I think your hair is wonderful, Ruby Mae. Not very many people have your coloring — it makes you special." The teenage girl beamed. "Now run along and get dressed. We'll have to leave soon if we want to get there before dark."

The sun was just setting when Ruby Mae and Christy arrived at Granny Barclay's cabin. Judging by the crowd, Christy figured that most of the Cove had turned out to celebrate the matriarch. Ruby Mae dashed off the minute she spotted Zady Spencer and Christy headed towards the food table to look for Fairlight.

"I wondered if the two of ya were gonna make it. Here," Fairlight handed Christy a pan of gingerbread and a knife, "can ya cut this for me? If we don't, the youngins will be eatin' it in one bite."

Christy set the pan on the table and began slicing. "I think the whole Cove is here. I haven't seen some of these families in ages." She scanned the crowd. Many of her students were dancing in front of the cabin, their bare feet kicking up dust in time to the twang of Jeb's fiddle. She envied their natural rhythm. The mountain dances still felt wild compared to the tameness of Asheville's waltzes.

"Doc ain't here yet. Passed him this morning on my way here. He was headin' out. Some fool boys near El Pano like ta broke their necks tryna race the train on mules. One of 'em slipped and got himself cut up real good. Doc said if'n it wasn't to bad, he'd come on his way back." Fairlight shot Christy a sly grin. "Don't ya fret. Any luck and he'll get ta see you all fancied up."

Christy blushed and stacked the gingerbread squares on plate. "I wasn't looking for Neil."

"Uh-huh." Fairlight snatched a piece of gingerbread from Christy's hand. "Doc says ya been avoidin' him. Plain hardheaded is what ya are."

"I haven't been avoiding him. We haven't needed a doctor at the mission."

"Uh-huh." Fairlight chewed the gingerbread. "Wal, now that the food's done, why don't we go dance? The youngins' will love gettin' ta teach you somethin' for once." Fairlight grabbed Christy's hand and dragged her towards the circle of children. Christy laughed and followed Fairlight towards the ring of dancers.

By her third song, Christy felt like she was finally getting the hang of the mountain dances. She'd spun around with Mountie, laughing until she cried. She'd danced with Rob and then Creed Allen. Tom McHone had even partnered with her once to teach her some of the more intricate footwork. She loved the energy of it all — the giddy dizziness of spinning round and round, the rush of swapping partners up and down, back and forth. She was so wrapped up in the music, the children's laughter, and the lightheaded exhilaration of it all that she did not notice her hand slipping into Neil's until she heard his rumbling laughter. "You're glowing, Miss Huddleston. Mountain music suits you." He grinned at the flush of her cheeks, already pink from the exertion of dancing, and spun her back across to Rob Allen.

They crossed paths twice more during the song and both times Christy found herself unable to look away from his searing gaze. His hands were always gentle, barely brushing her waist, but by the end of the set, she felt like she was on fire. When the music finally slowed, she found herself facing him once again. Wordlessly, he held out his hand. She hesitated for a brief moment, the word _professional _echoing in her mind, but eventually stepped closer and let him pull her into a slow waltz.

They were both silent for a few seconds. Christy felt the awkwardness creeping in and stiffened her back. The doctor only pulled her closer and splayed his fingers across the curve of her waist.

"I've missed you." His words were quiet and Christy barely heard them over the hum of the fiddle. She glanced up and met his stare.

"We've been busy."

"Aye." He stared at her for a long moment and Christy watched as his expression settled into something neutral and his tone slipped from _Neil _to _Doctor MacNeill. _"How are you?" The visible shift was painful to watch and Christy willed herself to relax. She'd asked for professional and he was trying to give it to her — yet it felt wrong down to her very soul.

"Neil." She slid her hand across the breadth of his shoulder towards his neck and back across. "I've missed you, too."


End file.
